the old woman.

One day, fearing her niece was ill, Madame Raquin climbed the stairs.
Therese never bothered to bolt the bedroom door.

At the sound of the woman's heavy step on the wooden stairs, Laurent
became frantic. Therese laughed as she saw him searching for his
waistcoat and hat. She grabbed his arm and pushed him down at the foot
of the bed. With perfect self-possession she whispered:

"Stay there. Don't move."

She threw all his clothes that were lying about over him and covered
them with a white petticoat she had taken off. Without losing her calm,
she lay down, half-naked, with her hair loose.

When Madame Raquin quietly opened the door and tiptoed to the bed the
younger woman pretended to be asleep. Laurent, under all the clothes was
in a panic.

"Therese," asked the old lady with some concern, "are you all right, my
dear?"

Therese, opening her eyes and yawning, answered that she had a terrible
migraine. She begged her aunt to let her sleep some more. The old lady
left the room as quietly as she had entered it.

"So you see," Therese said triumphantly, "there is no reason to worry.
These people are not in love. They are blind."